Rom. Not for the world. And of your own; nor speech, but to wish thus, Char. Thou dost strike A deathful coldness to my heart's high heat, If a fault belonging to my mind, I'll cut it off Farewell! continue merry, and high heaven Char. Hum!-Stay, and take this wolf Why stand you silent thus? What cold dull phlegm, As if you had no drop of choler mixed Rom. Laugh you! E'en so did your wife, Char. They were wise. Would'st have me be a fool? Rom. No, but a man. Char. There is no dram of manhood to suspect, And idle searcher of such lean nice toys! Fly to such matches, where the bridgroom doubts Thou buzzing drone, that 'bout my ears dost To strike thy rankling sting into my heart, Out of my breast, that thou hast lodged there, or Thus do I put thee off, and, confident Rom. Lose not, sir, yourself, [Locks the door. Char. Devil on't, What should it be? Romont, I hear Rom. There was no hurt in that. A likelihood or possibility unto the contrary? The servant of your wife now, young Novall, Tie heart to heart, one in another's arms, And melt each other's, like two circling flames, But left the world nor ashes nor an heir. In mine own innocency and desert, Rom. I'st possible?-Farewell fine honest man! Ere live to have men's marginal fingers point. An emperor put away his wife for touching And keep her, I think. Phoh! I am a fire Char. Didst thou never see me Rom. Yes, and pursue a foe Char. Prithee see me so no more. I can be so again.-Put up thy sword, Rom Come, fright your foes with this, sir; I For nothing, from her birth's free liberty, am your friend, And dare stand by you thus. Char. Thou'rt not my friend; Or being so, thou'rt mad.-I must not buy SCENE I. That opened mine to me? Yes; if I do- Rom. A dull Dutch rather :-Fall and cool my Boil not in zeal of thy friend's hurt so high, ACT IV. Enter NovALL jun. as newly dressed, a Taylor, Barber, Perfumer, LILADAM, AYMER, and Page. Nov. jun. Mend this a little: Pox! thou hast burnt me. Oh! fie upon it!-O lard! he has made me smell, for all the world, like a flax, or a red-headed woman's chamber: Powder, powder, powder. Perf. Oh, sweet lord! [Novall sits in a chair, barber orders his Page. That's his perfumer. Nov. jun. Monsieur Liladam! Aymer! how allow you the model of these clothes? Aymer. Admirably, admirably; oh, sweet lord! assuredly it is pity the worms should eat thee. Page. Here is a fine cell; a lord, a taylor, a perfumer, a barber, and a pair of monsieurs: Three to three, as little wit in the one, as honesty in the other. S'foot I'll into the country again learn to speak truth, drink ale, and converse with my father's tenants: here I hear nothing all day, but-upon my soul! as I am a gentleman, and an honest man! Aymer. I vow and affirm, your taylor must needs be an expert geometrician; he has the longitude, latitude, altitude, profundity, every dimension of your body, so exquisitely.-Here is a lace laid as directly, as if truth were a taylor. Page. That were a miracle. Lited. With a hair's breadth's error, there is a shoulder-piece cut, and the base of a pickadille in puncto. Aymer. You are right, monsieur, his vestments sit as if they grew upon him; or art had wrought them on the same loom, as nature framed his lordship; as if your taylor were deeply read in astrology, and had taken measure of your honourable body, with a Jacob's staff, an ephime rides. Tayl. I am bound to ye, gentlemen! Puge. You are deceived; they will be bound to you: You must remember to trust them none. neat artificer, give the devil his due. Nov. jun. Nay, 'faith, thou art a reasonable, Page. Aye, if he would but cut the coat according to the cloth still. Nov. jun. I now want only my mistress's approbation, who is, indeed, the most polite punctual queen of dressing in all Burgundy. Pah, and makes all other young ladies appear as if they came from board last week out of the country. Is it not true, Liladam? Lilad. True, my lord! as if any thing your lordship could say, could be otherwise than true. Nov. jun. Nay, o' my soul, it is so; what fouler object in the world, than to see a young, fair, handsome beauty, unhandsomely dighted, and incongruently accoutered; or a hopeful chevalier, unmethodically appointed, in the external ornaments of nature? For, even as the index tells us the contents of stories, and directs to the particular chapters, even so does the outward habit and superficial order of garments (in man or woman), give us a taste of the spirit, and demonstratively point (as it were a manual note from the margin) all the internal quality and habiliment of the soul; and there cannot be a more evident, palpable, gross manifestation of poor, degenerate, dunghilly blood and breeding, than a rude, unpolished, disordered, and slovenly outside. Page. An admirable lecture! ah, all you gallants, that hope to be saved by your clothes, edify, edify! Aymer. By the lard, sweet lard! thou deservest a pension of the state. Page. O' the taylors; two such lords were able to spread taylors over the face of a whole kingdom. Nov. jun. 'Pox o' this glass! It flatters.—I could find in my heart to break it. Page. O, save the glass, my lord! and break their heads: They are the great flatterers, I assure you. Aymer. Flatters! detracts, impairs.-Yet, put it bye, Lest thou, dear lord, Narcissus-like, should doat Who, but thyself, sweet lord, should marry me! Nov. jun. I marry? Were there a queen of the world, not I. Wedlock? No, padlock; horse-lock; I wear spurs [He capers. To keep it off my heels; yes, my Aymer! Enter PONTALIER and MALOTIN. Pont. I have waited, sir, Three hours to speak with you, and take it not well, Such magpies are admitted, whilst I dance Lilad. Magpies! What do ye take me for! Pont. A long thing, with a most unpromising face. Aymer. I'll never ask him what he takes me for. Malot. Do not, sir! For he'll go near to tell you. Pont. Art not thou a barber-surgeon! Pont. My lord is sorely troubled with two scabs. Lilad. Aymer. Humph Pont. I prythee, cure him of them. Thy gall sure is overflown: These are my council, Pont. Of perfume and apparel. Can you rise, And spend five hours in dressing-talk with these? Nov. jun. Thou wouldst have me be a dog: Up, stretch, and shake, And ready for all day. Pont. Sir! would you be You let it sleep in; to persuade, importune, Which once you saved, I never since counted mine; I borrowed it of you, and now will pay it; Nov. jun. Ha! ha! wouldst have me challenge poor Romont: Fight with close breeches? Thou may'st think I dare not; Do not mistake me, coz: I'm very valiant; mont? No, I'll not fight under a lord. Pont. Farewell, sir! I pity you. Such loving lords walk their dead honour's graves, For no companions fit, but fools and knaves. Come, Malotin. [Exeunt Pontalier and Malotin. Enter ROMONT. Lilad. 'Sfoot, Colbrand, the low giant! Aymer. He has brought a battle in his face; let's go. Page. Colbrand, do you call him? He'll make some of you smoke, I believe. Rom. By your leave, sirs! Aymer. Are you a concert? Rom. Do you take me for A fidler? you are deceived: Look. I'll pay you. [Kicks him. Page. It seems he knows you one, he bumfid dles you so. Lilad. Was there ever so base a fellow? Lilad. A most uncivil groom! Aymer. Offer to kick a gentleman in a noble Enter BELLAPERT. Nov. jun. What mean you, sir? My people! Ram. Your boy is gone, [Locks the door. And door is locked, yet for no hurt to you, Nov. jun. Tell you? Why, sir? Are you my confessor ? Rom. I will be your confounder, if you do not. [Draws a pocket dagger. Stir not, nor spend your voice. If you not satisfy me suddenly. I am desperate of my life, and command yours. Nov. jun. Hold! hold! I'll speak. I vow to Heaven and you, She's yet untouched, more than her face and hands. I cannot call her innocent; for, I yield, Rom. But, may I build On this assurance? Nov. jun. As upon your faith. [Draws inkhorn and paper. Nov. jun. Pox of this gun. Under your hand, (shake not) ne'er to frequent Rom. Let me see-this first is right; Rom. Your heart else, I assure you. Rom. So, keep this last article Of your faith given, and instead of threatenings, Char. I love a friend, So long as he continues in the bounds I must and will preserve my liberty. But speak of something else; this is a theme I take no pleasure in: What's this Aymer? Whose voice for song, and excellent knowledge in Beaum. He is a gentleman, (For so his quality speaks him) well received Among our greatest gallants; but yet holds His main dependance from the young lord No vall. But cries of yielding enemies, neighing of horses. Clashing of armour, loud shouts, drums and trumpets: Nor, on the other side, in favour of it, I love it to the worth of it, and no farther. Beaum. He prevents my calling of him. Enter AYMER. Aymer. Let the coach be brought To the back gate, and serve the banquet up: My good lord Charalois! I think To know you better, sir, has brought me hither, Aymer. Had I been one hour sooner made acquainted With your intent, my lord, you should have found me Better provided: Now, such as it is, Pray you grace with your acceptance. Beaum. You are modest. Aymer. Begin the last new air. Char. Shall we not see them? On all advantage take thy life, and justly, But to a noble purpose, shall not now To thee in lust or baseness, 'twere still short of Nov. jun. I dare not: I have already done you too much wrong Char. Why, darest thou neither Be honest coward, nor yet valiant knave? Aymer. This little distance from the, instru- Such whose blood's wrongs, or wrong done to ments Will to your ears convey the harinony With more delight. Char. I'll not contend. Aymer. You are tedious. By this means shall I with one banquet please Two companies, those within, and these gulls here. [Music, and a song above. Beaumel. within. Ha! ha! ha! Char. How's this? It is my lady's laugh, most certain When I first pleased her, in this merry language, She gave me thanks. Beaum. How like you this? Char. 'Tis rare Yet I may be deceived, and should be sorry, Likes not these sad tunes: I have a new song, Song below. At the end of the song, BEAU- Beaumel. Ha! ha! 'tis such a groom. themselves, Could never heat, are yet, in the defence Beaum. No, he fears his clothes More than his flesh. Char. Keep from me: Guard thy life; Nov. jun. Since there is no remedy, Bear this to the caroch-Come, you have taught Pont. I was bound to seek you, sir. Rom. And, had you found me Aymer. Ah! In any place but in the street, I should That women, when they're pleased, cannot hold, Have done, not talked to you. Are you the capBut must laugh out. Enter NovALL jun. CHARALOIS, BEAUMELLE, and BELLAPERT. Nov. jun. Help! save me! murder! murder! Bella. Undone for ever! Char. Oh, my heart! Hold yet a little. Do not hope to escape tain? |